


Eventualities

by VerdantMoth



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-08-23 14:17:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16620611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerdantMoth/pseuds/VerdantMoth
Summary: Arthur’s eyes burn, sting, and his chest is beginning to hurt a little, but he squares his shoulders. “I’m sorry, Merlin.”





	Eventualities

They’re walking down the street on a rainy Sunday. Church-goers loiter in large obnoxious crowds as they discuss what to eat for lunch. It’s muggy out and Arthur is sweating and Merlin keeps prattling on about the woman on the back row screaming “Amen” every five sentences and Arthur can’t handle it. He fiddles with the bandages on his left wrist.

He looks over at Miss Maisie and she smiles at him and somehow he takes that as a sign from God himself. He stops them there, in front of the nursery and just past the gymnasium and grips Merlin’s shoulders. It’s a little bit of a tussle to turn him, because somewhere in the last few years he’s gotten broad in the shoulders and tall as Arthur himself. But he manages and he’s facing Merlin.

So he does it. He grips those absurd cheekbones that fit _too well into his hands_ and he kisses him. Long and hard and breathless, because Merlin _lets him._ He doesn’t hesitate or freeze or fight back or any of a hundred other responses Arthur expects. He just fits his hands over Arthur’s shoulder and kisses back. Because he’s Merlin and he’s never off-kilter or off balance. He just goes with the flow, lets things unfold as they will, as the universe allows it. Or some hippie-shit like that.

And then Merlin needs to breath, or Arthur’s hands start to shake, or some combination of the two. Merlin gives Arthur a peculiar look. It’s all dark lashes and crystal eyes and plump, slightly-slick lips. “What was that for?”

Arthur picks at an old scab. He needs to tell him, to explain it. He can feel the tears welling up. “Just. You know. I had to.”

“Why?”

Arthur can’t look at him, as salt starts dripping down his own cheeks, collecting in the hollow at the base of his neck. “ _Idiot._ I had to Merlin. I had to, once. Because I can’t.”

Merlin’s hands are on his face, trying to tilt his chin up, but he refuses to lift his chin. “Can’t what?”

Arthur balls his fist up and tries not to sniff. “I can’t be your friend, Merlin. I can’t. We,” he pauses, waves his hand between them and shrugs. “We aren’t good. For each other.”

Merlin makes a noise that Arthur can’t interpret, doesn’t want to. Arthur angrily swipes a hand under his nose, angry at the way the material scrapes the delicate skin.

“I’m gonna hurt you, eventually. Merlin. It’s what I do. Who I am. And you deserve,” Arthur hesitates, doesn’t dare look up at him but he studies the sky above Merlin’s left ear. “You deserve better, Merlin. I’m not... I’m bad people.”

Merlin is quiet for a long time. “You kissed me, because you can’t be my friend?” Arthur glances at him between his eyelashes. He looks angry and confused and not at all hurt. “That’s kind of a fucked up way to breakup with someone, Arthur.”

Arthur shrugs. “Like I said. I’m bad people.”

“No. You don’t get to do this, Arthur.” Merlin shoves at his shoulders, pulls at his chin but despite his size, Arthur is still stronger. He shoves, and shoves hard, and Merlin ends up stumbling backwards. “You don’t get to break up with me over some misguided sense of chivalry.”

Arthur shakes his head. “Yeah. Actually. I do. I get to protect both of us.”

“And if I don’t want you to?”

Arthur’s eyes burn, sting, and his chest is beginning to hurt a little, but he squares his shoulders. “I’m sorry, Merlin.”

Merlin is still for the first time in their friendship. Stone tall and stiff and so silent he might not even be real. Arthur does the bravest thing he’s ever done then. He walks away. He leaves Merlin then, gaping and wounded and he doesn’t look back.

It’s for the best. It really is, even if his chest burns and his eyes ache and the church goers are staring. It’s for the best, he thinks, even as he peels the bandage off and picks at the scabs. He’d only hurt Merlin eventually, anyway.   

  


End file.
